Thy cogitations, howsoever small. What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace, Which from the eternal fountain are diffused. I did not ask, ‘What ails thee?’ as he does Who only looketh with the eyes that see not When of the soul bereft the body lies, But asked it to give vigor to thy feet; Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow To use their wakefulness when it returns.” We passed along, athwart the twilight peering Forward as far as ever eye could stretch Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent; And lo! by slow degrees a smoke approached In our direction, sombre as the night, Nor was there place to hide one’s self therefrom. This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us.
Marco Lombardo.